Everybody has the right.

I looked down into my hand as the phone continued to pulse. Dammit, why was this thing always getting in my way? I had wanted to leave it behind completely, but for some reason, I had kept it with me. Every time I'd looked at it, it had dragged me away from the fact that I was with three beautiful women in a cabin, in one of the most beautiful places on earth.

For a moment I felt a sudden urge to flip the phone over. The Golden Apple Logo on the back looked somehow wrong. A few minor scratches had taken their toll on the embossed surface, and for a second, it almost looked as if the raised decoration were marked with letters in some strange location. I blinked, and the moment passed.

"I hate this thing," I mumbled, and slowly and carefully flipped the phone back over. For a second I contemplated just shoving it back into my pocket, but instead chose to place it on the counter.

"Why should we take the credit hit for her fuck up?" I asked quietly. "Imogene's pushed it one time too far. Every damn time, she expects me to be just sitting home and waiting for her to call. But you didn't... why did you play along with me? Why did you tell me that we could pay the bill but it would be hard work? You NEVER help me with her,"

I glanced at Kaila, who was sitting there with a satisfied smile on her face.

"Because I would have been playing into her game again," Kaila nodded. "You can thank my girlfriend for that one. Long talks without somebody in the situation help... And you Brent, my dear sweet husband, are acting like a beaten puppy whenever it comes to your family."

I wanted to bite back a retort, but the truth was... she was right. How many guys had I rescued Imogene from? How many times had Callum told me that if I didn't do something RIGHT NOW he'd call the cops on me? How many times while I was living with them had my folks gone through my room, humiliated me in public with the reminder that I was living at home, and then proceeded to kick me out? And yet now, here I was expected to go get Imogene, because of her fuck up.

"You weren't going to figure it out if she just told you, Brent," Charlotte pointed out. "That's the problem with somebody in a bad family situation. You can tell them a hundred times, but they won't see it until something pretty much slaps them in the face."

"She was fine last night..." I mused. "She's got other friends. She's got Dad." I left out the part where Dad would probably demand a groveling apology before helping Imogene. Probably in Public. Probably would have to do some penance around the house, AGAIN. Until of course, she started doing the "Daddy's little girl" routine which always was nauseating to watch because...

I cut off the thought realizing that she had been doing the "**** little sister" routine on me for years, and I'd fallen for it, hook, line, sinker and pole. Heavy emphasis on the Pole, apparently.

"So... uhm... about that park," I asked Helen, who had finished pulling on her shorts and was now lacing up a pair of hiking boots over a pair of socks decorated with what looked like holiday print.

"You still want to go? Are we not helping out your..." Helen began.

"No, fuck that... I'm not blowing seven hundred bucks and who knows how much gas money for a thanks and a kiss on the cheek." I nodded thoughtfully. "I say we take a nice walk at your park, and THEN, IF she still needs help, we help Imogene, but..."

"Ok, don't need to beat it to ****. Can we just get the short, short version?"

"Do you? YES! Do you? Yes! Do you? Yes! Do I? Yes! Good, we're Married, Kiss her!" I tossed off the Spaceballs line as quickly and angrily as I could. It seemed to work because it brought laughs.

"Ok. So... I'm not going to cause drama today, Brent..." Kaila began. "If you're... coming clean, I need to come clean. Carla's here."

"Ok, thanks for telling me and not doing the doublemint twins routine, has anybody seen my other shirt, I mean besides the one Charlotte's wearing?"

"I think Charlie looks ravishing in it," Kaila smiled, leaning on the counter, and allowing her robe to gape open. "But there's more to tell, Brent. And I don't want anything hanging over..."

"Tell me in the car," I scooped up another of my shirts, this one an authentic Hawaiian that I'd found in a thrift store a few weeks before the trip. I really liked it, especially the random figures that were incorporated into the light tan and deep cyan color scheme. Felt like every few days I'd notice a figure I hadn't seen before. Course that was the joke with Hawaiian shirts. Great shirts to wear if you've got a cold, because nobody's gonna notice snot on it.